


Snowfall

by kurai_no_tenshi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Character Insight, Gen, Light Angst, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Reminiscing, Snow, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2070462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurai_no_tenshi/pseuds/kurai_no_tenshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's cold.<br/>He doesn't know whether to run, stop walking, or just fall to the ground.<br/>The ground would make him colder than he already is, he decides. Best not to freeze to death.<br/>Though really, freezing to death feels like a pretty good option right about now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowfall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tumblr's TheMerlinArtsFest2014 for the prompt image. 
> 
> I'm late, w-wehh! ;A; My laptop broke so I had to write instead of doing an edit for this prompt so I hope you all like it! It's just a little drabble I made with some character insight. Pretty short. But on the plus side, it is beta'ed, thanks to the lovely Sheila. Enjoy. <3

It's cold.

He doesn't know whether to run, stop walking, or just fall to the ground.

 

The ground would make him colder than he already is, he decides. Best not to freeze to death.

 

Though really, freezing to death feels like a pretty good option right about now.

 

What was he thinking? Why did he think she'd even come so close to the Citadel anyway? She was so lost and confused when he sent her away. It hurt enough that it would break his heart – would – only if there were any pieces left to shatter further.

 

There aren't, but it still hurts.

 

He keeps telling himself that it was for the best. She didn't want to go and he didn't want to tell her to leave – but she had to. She would've been killed if he hadn't. Or worse, locked up and tortured.

 

He could tell that she already had been, and it made him sick to his stomach. It was his fault, he was the one that let her go off on her own without his guidance. . He couldn't bear to let her go through that again.

 

But he couldn't bear to see the pain in her eyes as she turned away from him, either.

 

It's haunted his dreams. He hasn't been able to sleep properly for ages. Every time he closes his eyes, it's her pain and rejection that floods his mind.

 

Just like his, every time Arthur has ever sent him away.

 

It hits far too close to home to be anything but nauseating.

 

He looks ahead, and all he sees is the path before him, surrounded by trees covered in fallen snow.

 

The snow is still falling in tiny, almost unidentifiable flakes. They aren't large enough to obscure his vision, but they're doing a good job of adding to the mounds on the ground and keeping it so that everything stays nice and slick, and most importantly, hard to walk on.

 

He could use his magic to warm his clothes, he's aware. The scraps of fabric have always done little to actually be of help in extreme temperatures, particularly the cold ones, but he doesn't have it in himself to bother using his magic.

 

He doesn't have it in himself to do much of anything beyond walking, really.

 

The cold is numbing and harsh, but it keeps him feeling  _ something _ , and that's what he needs.

 

He needs to feel something else. 

 

Anger.

 

Sadness.

 

He's crying now, he realizes, but he doesn't bother to wipe away the tears.

 

His mother had once told him that crying wasn't a sign of weakness, but strength. And when he truly, honestly needed to let his emotions go, he should. Keeping things bottled up never turned out well.

 

He'd certainly been keeping plenty of things bottled up.

 

Things that he couldn't let go.

 

Things that he didn't know if he'd ever be able to let go.

 

It hurt a lot.

 

The sound of footsteps crunching through the snow on the path behind him startled him out of his thoughts, and he wiped away the tears quickly, dampening the fabric of his jacket even more. He wasn't aware who thought they could sneak up and catch him by surprise, but they were wrong. And he was ready to do what it took to get away from any enemy –

 

“ Merlin?”

 

The voice surprised Merlin more than he'd thought it would. Mainly because he hadn't been expecting someone to come out and talk to him, let alone for that someone to be  Arthur, especially this distance away from the castle.

 

“ Merlin. What  _ are  _ you doing all the way out here?”

 

He takes a deep breath to collect himself, and straightens his posture before finally turning and facing his King, fixed with a cheeky smile and a shrug.

 

Arthur responds with a scoff, rolling his eyes, and steps closer.

 

“ You're going to catch a cold,  _ Mer _ lin.”

 

“ Sorry sire,” he laughs, and it feels forced. And Merlin notices the moment the look on Arthur's face changes. How his brow furrows and his lips turn down ever so slightly, staring into Merlin’s eyes like he's searching for something and unable to find it. It's almost like he's concerned.

 

Stupid, really. Why would a King ever be concerned about his servant?

 

_ But he has been plenty of times _ , a voice inside Merlin's head echos to him. He ignores it. Arthur has no reason to be concerned about him.

 

“ What's wrong?”

 

And since when has Arthur been able to read him like  _ that? _

 

“ Wrong?” he echoes back, face the picture of confusion.

 

Regardless of what Arthur says, he is a good liar. Though only when he really wants to keep a secret.

 

His emotions have always been his secret to hide.

 

“ Nothing's wrong, sire.”

 

Lies.

 

“ I'm fine.”

 

More lies.

 

“ What are you doing all the way out here?”

 

Diversion.

 

Arthur stares back at him for a moment, frown still ever present, and crosses his arms.

 

“ I've been following you.”

 

The trick worked.

 

“ The real question is,  _ Mer _ lin. What are  _ you _ doing all the way out here?”

 

Merlin walks forward, then. He forces himself to walk steadily on his feet even as much as he just wants to collapse on the ground, all despite the cold, and over up to Arthur before passing him in the direction back to the castle. He looks over his shoulder to see Arthur still eyeing him speculatively, but Merlin refuses to let it bother him. Refuses to let it appear that it does, at the very least.

 

“ Just going for a stroll is all,” he says, and heads back towards the Citadel. “Now, are you coming or not?”

 

Arthur responds with an indignant scoff but turns in the same direction, leaving the picture-perfect road behind.

 

They don't speak for a while, the only sound in the area the crunching of their footsteps on freshly-fallen snow and the occasional whistle of wind. It's peaceful, in it's own way, but Merlin still can shake the horrid feeling he’s had since he saw her last. He knows he needs to be out there and he knows that he needs to keep her away from Morgana’s influence if at all possible. He should be out there, searching. He can't stand the thought of her out there by herself in the snow.

 

But now that Arthur's here, he won't even have the chance to get far enough away to help her, not without getting caught.

 

He can't risk that. Especially not now that Morgana has become active again. He can't leave Arthur on his own and without his protection.

 

Arthur first. Any of his magic will always come second.

 


End file.
